son of two guns

his worship

Wednesday, 2-23-00 -- The Grammy Awards were making me nauseous so I rolled over to Trax for Rev. Horton Heat with special guest Hank Williams III. Punks and rockabilly types were mixing with older rock and country fans in Trax's cavernous black interior. Reports of Hank III's CD being a real country-radio-sounding record were making me a little nervous, but all fears were put to rest when he burst onto the stage-- a proud-to-be-loud lanky hillbilly punk with a torn-up Misfits T-shirt and a beaten and scrawled upon acoustic guitar. His band launched into a set of punkabilly originals and revved-up old school country covers, more than fully living up to the glory of his family legend with such gems as "We Put the Dick in Dixie and the Cunt in Country." He even did a little yodeling ala Hank Sr., thoroughly impressing this duck, but eventually it became time to turn up the heat and so Rev. Horton Heat took the stage backed by his traditional up-right bass and drums combo. Decked out in a red suit with embroidered flames to match the ones painted on the bass fiddle, the good Reverend proceeded to swing and jive his irreverent variation on raw rockabilly jazz. The Reverend looks to be in his forties but he throws down a very energetic, raw-edged, rough and ready-to-rumble rendition of good times rock and roll, and although the sound in Trax was remarkably harsh and loud, the crowd capitulated with thrashing and dancing.

Thursday, 2-24-00 -- Not wanting to be the only one in town not hip to the next happening thing, I ambled down to Tokyo Rose for a night of D.C.'s finest alternative rock. The show started off with a thumping set of almost Zeppelin-esque jams from Dead Meadow. The young band drove hard through feedbacking climaxes, leaving their drummer panting betweens numbers. They were followed by Engine Down, who are at least partially based here in town. Engine Down, in my opinion, stole the show. Heavy like anti-matter, they wound their way through intricate volcanic passages of odd time signatures and even odder chord changes, generating overwhelming sonic landscapes and weaving them into a furious tapestry of almost classical elegance. They were so intense that the headlining band, The Make-Up, was a let-down for me. The Make-up are notorious for their band aesthetic-- they wear uniforms-- and for their lead singer's outrageous tirades and rock and roll antics. They play a rough version of 60's R&B/psychedelia-- somewhere between early Stones and the Animals. Their lead singer resembles a cross between Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and he has come up with some great slackard rock cliches-- perfect stuff to get the audience chanting along, but I was a little bored with them after Engine Down's thorough trouncing, so I rolled home for asylum.
-Cripsy Duck

Idle opinions are the duck's playthings. cripsyduck@mindspring.com